I turned and faced him before dropping to my knees.
“Oh my God.” He sat up and moved to the end of the bed. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Who knew?” I scooted in between his legs and eyed his thick length. I breathed across the tip, and his head fell back as he tangled one hand in my hair.
“Wh-What do you mean ‘Who knew’?”
“I mean, ‘Who knew Kennedy Granade was a gentleman?’”
He returned his gaze to me. “I like to think everyone knows that I’m a—”
I licked the wet tip of his cock, gripped the base, and took him as deeply into my mouth as I could.
“Holy fuck fuck fuck shit.” Kennedy put both hands in my hair, his fingers clenching close to my scalp.
I pulled the tip out to my lips and smiled up at him. “Shh, do you want Faye to hear?”
“You little—”
I took him to the back of my throat again and his vitriol was interrupted by a groan. He surged into me with his hips and I backed off a little to keep from gagging. Licking the bottom of his shaft, I strengthened my grip around his base and began working my mouth and my hand in tandem.
“Shit.” He drew the word out as I set to work pumping up and down on his cock.
I rubbed his head against the roof of my mouth, starting right behind my teeth and moving it all the way to my throat. The same motion over and over again as my palm slid against his slick shaft. He curled his fingers in my hair, pulling until little pinpricks of pain lit up along my scalp that sent a pleasurable sensation swooping and diving through me. I spread my legs a little more, my pussy desperate for the same treat my mouth was getting.
He pulled my hair, forcing my chin to tilt up toward his face. When I met his eyes, I worked him faster, spurred on by the tension in his body, the need radiating from him.
He panted and his brows drew together, but he looked only at me. Wet noises bounced off the wall and back to my ears, but I didn’t stop, just kept licking and sucking until I felt him stiffen even more in my mouth.
“I’m going to come,” he bit out, and released my hair.
I didn’t stop, just kept bobbing on him.
“Oh my God, Scarlett.” He groaned and pulled me closer, fucking my mouth.
His hips pistoned, and I kept crisscrossing his shaft with my tongue.
“I’m coming. Fuck.”
The first spurt shot against the roof of my mouth, and then another and another. I swallowed, savoring his salty taste and licking up and down on him even as some come escaped and rolled down his shaft, pooling on top of my fingers.
His cock jerked one more time and he relaxed, every bit of tightness gone and a serene look on his handsome face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever even . . . I don’t . . .” His words were almost slurred, and he gripped me under my arms and hauled me up onto the bed with him. “You are amazing.”
I smiled and bit his shoulder. “Yes. And you’re a screamer.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kennedy
Night fell, and Faye puttered around my kitchen, cooking up a small batch of jambalaya for our dinner. Scarlett sat in the living room, talking and laughing with Shorty. It had taken an hour or so, but he’d finally opened up enough for her to chat him up and get him watching a reality TV show with her about house hunting. Whenever the commercials interrupted the show, he rose and peeked out the front windows¸ the back door, and did a check in the bedrooms.
“Where’s your garlic?”
“Garlic?” I rummaged through my spice rack.
“Not the powder kind.” Faye walked past, her muumuu flowing out behind her as she went. “I need two real cloves.”
“I don’t think I have that.”
She stirred the pot of delicious-smelling shrimp and Creole spices. “You have it now. Clarence got it for me when he was out.” She pointed to a grocery bag with tomatoes, lemons, and garlic spilling out. “Mince me up two cloves.”
“I have no idea how to mince. You know that, right?” I grabbed the garlic and stared at the flaky white outside for a few seconds. “The cloves are in here, right? I just have to get them out?”
Faye turned and adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses. “Are you kidding with me?”
“No, I don’t cook. You know I don’t cook.”
She shook her head and turned back to the stove. “You’re a smart boy. Lawyer and all that. Figure it out.”
I scratched my chin and reached up to grab a cutting board from the top of the fridge. Glancing to the living room, I saw Scarlett smirking at me.
She turned back to Shorty and they continued their running commentary on what house they thought the couple on the show should pick as their starter home.